


The Old Switcheroo

by Lenore



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Bodyswap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-22
Updated: 2007-04-22
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:47:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenore/pseuds/Lenore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A transporter accident leads to shenanigans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Old Switcheroo

**Author's Note:**

> I needed entertaining on a Saturday night, and [I polled you guys about porn](http://scribblinlenore.livejournal.com/361687.html), and you voted, and I wrote it. And, hey, we've passed on in to Sunday. So mission accomplished all around!

On second thought, it wasn't the worst thing that had ever happened to Rodney. Okay, so maybe it actually took the third or fourth or even fifth thought to reach that conclusion. First had come the percussive shock of the accident (Rodney's ears were still ringing), and then the very natural disorientation (was there anything weirder than looking across a room and seeing someone else wearing your face?), and of course, Rodney hadn't held back on the yelling. How many times had he asked Davidson to run a diagnostic on the transporter? A little yelling—okay, so _a lot_ of yelling—was definitely in order.

Elizabeth let him get it mostly out of his system before stepping in as the voice of reason, "Let's just calm down and figure out what happened and see how we can fix it."

After half an hour's powwow, Rodney had come up with a solution. Okay, maybe with a little help from Radek. All right, _fine_ , possibly it was mostly Radek's idea.

"Only one problem," Radek said, with an apologetic look at John and Rodney. "It will take some time."

Elizabeth got that worried little crinkle between her eyebrows. "How much time?"

"Few days?" Radek ventured.

"The IOC representatives will be here tomorrow," she said, lips pursed. "There's been concern that the Atlantis mission is too dangerous, too many casualties and," she eyed the two of them, "an unusual number of freak accidents."

Sheppard piped up, "No problem. We'll just have to fake it until they're gone. What happened with the transporter stays need to know only."

"Oh, please!" Rodney huffed indignantly. "How are you going to convince anyone you're the most brilliant physicist in two galaxies?"

Sheppard made a face at him, _his_ face, the one he used on dimwitted underlings, and that was just annoying. "I'll wing it. Make up some excuse why I need to be out of the lab. You just don't do anything to get me court martialed."

Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. "If you haven't gotten yourself kicked out by now with all your many exploits, there's nothing _I_ can do to get you in trouble."

Sheppard narrowed his eyes, but it didn't have quite the same effect it usually did. Rodney just looked kind of squinty whenever he tried that.

* * *

A mission had been scheduled for the next morning, and there was no way to cancel it without raising suspicions, so they went. Teyla and Ronon were clued in about the old switcheroo, and Sheppard insisted to Rodney, "You get to play me in the control room, but once we get to the planet, I'm in charge."

Rodney waved his hand. "Whatever." He was busily pouring over data the MALP had sent back. There were some energy readings that had caught his interest.

The inhabitants of the planet had achieved a fairly advanced stage of technological development, and didn't automatically hate them on sight, which was a pleasant change. They met with the Council, and discussed the possibility of trade and the exchange of technical knowledge, and Rodney noticed that Myrsha, the hot Council member with the long blonde hair, kept looking his way, but he didn't really think anything about it at first. Sheppard was always the one who got the action on away missions.

"Oh," he said out loud when he finally figured out the obvious.

Everyone turned to look at him, and he shook his head and said weakly, "Never mind."

Myrsha took that as her cue. "I believe you wished to see the recombinant DNA analyzer?"

"Yes," Rodney said emphatically. "Yes, I did."

Happily, the lab with the recombinant DNA analyzer was just as deserted as Rodney was hoping. Myrsha locked the door and pulled her dress up over her head, hesitating only long enough to say, "We will have sex now, yes?"

"Yes!" Rodney started to scramble out of his clothes, and then had an annoyingly practical thought, "It's just—"

Myrsha skimmed her panties down her long legs, kicked them away and reached for a bowl on the nearby desk. "Using prophylactics will not take away from your pleasure, I trust?"

"No, no, that's very—" He frowned. "Do you just keep those sitting around?"

"My people are very safety conscious," Myrsha assured him.

 _And very limber_ , Rodney thought, a short time later.

* * *

He did his best not to stagger bow-leggedly on the way back to the gate, but there was no hiding the marks on his neck. Teyla gave him a chiding look, and Ronon snorted a laugh, and Sheppard glared pure murder, not that Rodney was worried. What was Sheppard going to do? Kick his own ass?

They debriefed with Elizabeth, and Rodney went off to his quarters, and he'd been there maybe two minutes when Sheppard came barging in. "What the hell was that today?"

Rodney did his best imitation of a Sheppard shrug, all slouchy hipped nonchalance. "What?"

Sheppard pointed his finger, not a bad impression of Rodney. "You know what!"

"I was just being you. Isn't that what you wanted me to do? Besides, you can't blame me for taking advantage of an opportunity. And this," he waved his hand at his borrowed self, "is definitely that."

"That's _my_ body, Rodney!"

"Oh, relax. I used protection."

"I can't believe you." Sheppard put his hands on his hips. "Fine. Be that way. Maybe this is an opportunity for me too. Did you ever think of that?"

Rodney snorted. "Please."

"Yeah? Well, we'll see about that." Sheppard lifted his chin, and turned on his heel.

Rodney was _so_ afraid.

* * *

The next day, though, his smug certainty wavered a little when he noticed Sheppard at lunch, doing that head dip, aw-shucks smile thing that he did so well—at some member of the science team no less, someone Rodney vaguely recognized as one of the junior geologists, although for the life of him he couldn't remember the man's name. And Sheppard was flirting with him!

When Sheppard made his way over to their table at last, Rodney accosted him before he even settled into a chair, "What the hell was that?"

Sheppard shrugged. "What?"

"You know what!" Rodney was practically spitting.

Sheppard cracked a mischievous grin, and Rodney found it _really_ annoying to see that on his own face. "You can't blame me for taking advantage of an opportunity."

"What opportunity?" Rodney demanded.

Sheppard tucked into his turkey sandwich, looking quite satisfied with himself, and wouldn't say another word about it.

It plagued Rodney for the rest of the day, and every, oh, five minutes or so, he checked the internal sensors to make sure Sheppard wasn't anywhere he wasn't supposed to be. It didn't ping his radar at first when Sheppard headed into the armory—military commander of Atlantis and all that—but the glowing dot didn't move, didn't move, didn't move. Rodney threw down his work and hoofed it over there.

Whatever he was expecting…it wasn't Sheppard slumped back against a stack of boxes marked "Grenades," pants pushed down his hips, with what's his name, the geologist, on his knees in front of him, alternately fluttering kisses over his belly and sucking his cock, Sheppard's balls cupped in his hand, what's-his-name murmuring, "I knew you wanted this. Knew it. The way you're always looking at me. Oh, _Dr. McKay_."

Sheppard tightened his hand in what's-his-name's hair and had the temerity to actually come.

That was _it_ , the last straw. "You are unbelievable!"

What's-his-name practically jumped out of his skin. "Colonel Sheppard, I didn't realize—"

"Beat it," Rodney barked at him.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—" What's-his-name stopped abruptly, and his eyes got bigger. "Wait. Are you and Dr. McKay—oh, God. I didn't know! Honest. I never would have—" He backed his way out the door.

"You crossed a line!" Rodney yelled at Sheppard once they were alone.

Sheppard straightened his clothes, utterly unconcerned. "What's that saying? Turnabout is fair play?"

"Having indiscriminate sex with someone in Atlantis is completely different than a quickie offworld. I have to work with—" He snapped his fingers.

"Dr. Thompson?"

"I knew that," Rodney insisted.

"That's good," Sheppard smiled insufferably. "Because he certainly seems to think you two have a special relationship." He leaned closer. "I can't tell you how nice it is not to have to worry about regulations. I'm going to make the most of it while it lasts."

He sauntered off whistling.

* * *

Rodney spent the rest of the day mercilessly harassing Zelenka so he'd have no choice but to hurry up and fix them. He absolutely wasn't going to think about what happened in the armory, wasn't going to think about it, wasn't going to…okay, so sometimes he thought about it. When he got out of the shower, he stared at himself in the mirror, at _Sheppard_ , and thought, _this body likes cock_. He rubbed a hand over his belly, and sucked in his breath, and his cock took a definite interest. Was that Sheppard's body? Or was that him?

He ran a finger along his hardening length, and it was Sheppard's dick he was touching, Sheppard's dick that other men had touched. The picture of what's-his-name down on his knees flashed back at him, only it was Sheppard's dick this time that was moving between his lips. Rodney's head lolled to the side, and he closed his eyes and wrapped his hand around himself. Good, but not quite, not quite. He squeezed his eyes tighter shut, and he was the one on his knees, hands clutching, mouth working, and Sheppard was, Sheppard—

His eyes snapped opened, and Sheppard was _there_ , and Rodney was going to—

The door chimed, derailing Rodney's orgasm, and his own wheedling voice harangued him, "We need to talk."

"Not right now," he yelled, frantically grabbing for his robe.

"Yes, now. Open the door, Rodney, or I'll—"

Rodney stomped over and swiped his hand in front of the sensor. "Happy now?"

Sheppard made a face. "Delighted." He hesitated at the sight of Rodney only half dressed. "Were you—did I—"

Rodney glared at him. "Yes, you did get me out of the shower. And it had better be important."

"Oh. Sorry." John raked his hand through his hair. "Look, I just wanted to say—you shouldn't have slept with that woman on the planet—"

"Been there already!"

" _But_ ," Sheppard said in exasperation. "If you'd shut up long enough for me to get to that part." He took a breath and let it out. "I shouldn't have, with Dr. Thompson. So, can we just—truce?"

 _Okay_. That's all Rodney had to say. So easy. _Okay_. But— "Why aren't you gay for me?"

Sheppard went utterly still, and there was confusion for just a moment, before his expression turned to stone. "Don't be a jerk, Rodney. I said I was sorry."

"Seriously. What does Thompson have that I don't?" Rodney demanded, and the question felt suddenly precarious, the answer all too important.

Sheppard gave him a sharp look, and it seemed to go on forever, but finally, quietly, "Nothing, Rodney. Nothing at all."

"Then take your clothes off." It just came out, but not a bad idea once he actually thought about it. Rodney pushed his shoulders back, stood his ground.

Sheppard shifted his weight uneasily. "What are you doing?"

Rodney shook his head. "I don't know. I just—"

"Because you've never—"

Rodney pulled impatiently at his belt and threw off his robe. "Oh, really?"

That shut Sheppard up, which was always good, and Rodney reached out, hand to Sheppard's face, and fumbled their mouths together. "This isn't because I'm just such a narcissist, either. So don't start."

Sheppard smirked. "Sure, it isn't." But he kissed back, and that was—that worked.

Rodney pushed at Sheppard's shirt, and Sheppard pitched in and kicked off his pants, and when they were naked together, "Here. Let me—" Sheppard wheeled Rodney around so they were back to front, facing the mirror. He curled his hand around Rodney's cock. "I've pictured this. Kind of a lot, actually."

It was a good picture, Rodney's hand on Sheppard's cock, and he moaned and pushed into that fist, and it was like picking up where he'd left off earlier. He bit his lip and came in hard, long pulses.

Sheppard's laugh uncurled softly, and he bit Rodney's ear. "I always thought I had more staying power than that."

"Oh, shut up," Rodney told him fondly. "And let me." He put his hand on John's dick. Or John's hand on his dick, technically. "Did you picture this, too?"

John groaned, and Rodney stroked more deliberately, and John's voice cracked, "I thought about a lot of things I wanted to do to you."

Rodney rubbed his thumb along that one spot on the underside, because it was his dick, and he _knew_ , and John trembled. "Please."

It was just the right word, too. Because it really did please Rodney, so much, when John finally came in his hand.

Afterwards, they sprawled on the bed together, and it was just as weird as Rodney would have expected, but neither of them made any move to go anywhere.

"I'll be glad when we—" John waved his hand between their bodies. "I want to touch _you_."

Rodney nodded. "Mmmm. Yeah."

John plucked at the bedspread. "So. You never did say. Why now?"

Rodney shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe the change of perspective?"

John thought about it and then shrugged, too. "Okay."

Rodney lifted an eyebrow. "That's it? Just. Okay."

"Hey, as long as it's not because you want to sleep with yourself…" He grinned wickedly.

Rodney thrashed him with a pillow, and John offered a counterattack, and they rolled around and ended up tumbling to the floor, where they eventually had their second round of sex, which ordinarily Rodney would have vetoed as being far too unforgiving for his back, but hey, not his problem right at the moment.


End file.
